


Waiting

by ShirleyAnn66



Category: Jericho
Genre: F/M, another old old old fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-04 16:29:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15845058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/pseuds/ShirleyAnn66
Summary: Written for kissbingo prompt:  emotion:  surprise





	Waiting

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** I do not own, nor am I affiliated with, Jericho, CBS, or any other PTB that may have ownership of Jericho.  No copyright infringement is intended.  This is just for fun and entertainment.

*/*/*/*/*

They began to creep out from the bomb shelters two hours after the bombs stopped falling.

When Heather poked her head out from City Hall, it was as though no time had passed at all. The air was still thick with smoke and dust – half the town was burning she thought, dazed at the level of destruction in front of her. The war had finally arrived right on Jericho's doorstep – hell, it had shoved its way into the livingroom.

“You were supposed to wait until we came for you!”

Heather turned at Emily's voice, and saw her and some of the other Rangers, dirty and bloody, jogging up to them.

“You need to go back underground,” Emily said, her face grim.

“Did we win?” Heather asked. “Have you heard who - ?”

“We don't know,” Emily said and now there was a trace of fear lacing through her words. “Jake and Eric and some of the others headed out to join Beck's troops on the front line just before the battle got to its worst point. We haven't heard anything since. We've been too busy trying to hold the town.”

“But the fighting's stopped...”

“Yeah – but who won...who's...we just don't know. The only thing we do know is, we've held the town, but we may not be able to hold off another attack. You guys need to get back underground.”

Heather simply gave her a look. “We'll go back underground if the fighting starts again,” she said firmly. “Right now, we need to...” she glanced around at the rubble, at the Rangers' wounds, at the bodies in the street. “We need to do _something_.”

Hours later, working in the full dark lit only by burning buildings and the occasional, carefully placed kerosene lantern, they heard the sound of gunfire at the edge of town, gunfire that stopped as abruptly as it had begun. Everyone on Main Street stopped what they'd been doing and instinctively drew closer together. No one made any move to go to the bomb shelter; no one any longer thought there was much point in hiding.

In the darkness, with the air dense with smoke and dust, Heather found herself thinking it all looked and felt like something out of a war movie. She felt suspended, in the scene but not part of it, like she was standing, watching from a great distance, simply waiting. The silence of the people around her added to the illusion that she was far away from what had happened today; far away from what she still didn't know but feared was true with her whole heart and soul.

She stood in silence with the others, straining her eyes and her ears, but perfectly still. When she heard the sound of many people walking down the street, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

The silence was eerie, the waiting tense, the uncertainty almost unbearable.

Why were they walking, Heather wondered vaguely. Even though she still felt separated from her surroundings, she also seemed more acutely aware of everything around her. Of the acrid smell of smoke and dust, the sharp smell of blood, the earthy smell of sweat. Of Emily getting a better grip on her gun, Mimi pressing her trembling fingers to her lips, Mary and Gail clutching hands so tightly their knuckles shone white, Darcy holding her children closer, trying to give them the illusion of safety.

Heather stood alone, unmoving, arms hanging limp at her side. All she could think was that she'd never told him, never showed him, and all she could do was pray – pray the people approaching were theirs, pray that all the people they loved were coming home safely.

Everything seemed to slow as figures began to emerge from the dark and the dust and the smoke, walking into the small circles of light cast by the kerosene lanterns. Mimi was the first to break the unnatural silence and the fear when she first whispered and then shouted, “Stanley!” and took off running towards her big blonde farmboy.

The waiting crowd's paralysis broke, and others began to move forward, calling names, hugging each other, and everyone was crying, crying, crying, either in joy or grief.

Emily, Mary and Gail rushed to Jake and Eric, and the Green family huddled together, holding on to each other as tightly as possible.

Darcy and the kids were next, running to Hawkins, and for a few minutes, Robert Hawkins dropped his mask and became, not an almost superhuman Black Ops specialist, but simply an all-too-human man, thankful to hold his family in his arms.

And still Heather waited, suspended, arms hanging limp at her side, praying, hoping, begging, pleading with whatever deity might still exist to please, please, please let him be safe – let him be coming down the street – _let him come home_.

Finally, she saw the familiar figure she was waiting for, and she came alive. She wasn't aware of the startled looks from her friends as she ran past them, or even his stunned look as she threw herself into his arms, and pressed her lips against his.

As first kisses went, it left a lot to be desired. It was awkward due to the body armor and other equipment Beck was carrying. The kiss was both off-balance and off-centre, and tasted salty sweet because of her tears.

But once he recovered from his surprise, the _second_ kiss was right on target – and the only surprise was how much better it was than the fantasy.

#####


End file.
